For the Love of Tennis
by alolha123
Summary: Tennis isn't dead for Fuji. It's just been collecting dust under his bed. Oneshot, future fic, no pairings.


I wrote this a while ago. It was originally meant for a friend, but I guess you can share it... ;)

Note: Future fic... Not much else to be said.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, and I gain nothing from this fic. (But you can always donate... JK!)

For the Love of Tennis

By alolha123

Fuji missed tennis, and he missed his teammates.

How long had it been since he'd played? How long since he'd seen the other Seigaku regulars? That team which was now hailed as the best team Seishun Gakuen had ever had?

_Legendaries_ had been on that team. Tezuka, whose dream had always been tennis, was a pro now and traveled often. Fuji had lost track of him one both had entered college. Echizen, the star freshman and "ochibi" to those who knew him more personally, was now number one seeded in the world. Long had he surpassed his _buchou_, but they were fine with that. When Echizen had neared his level, Tezuka had stepped aside and accepted second place.

But Fuji... he had pursued a future in photography. It was hard quitting tennis, he admitted that often, but photography was his first love.

Though he did miss tennis.

He loved it.

Why couldn't he admit it?

Fuji put down the picture of that star team, stood up, and walked to his bed. Reaching under it, he pulled out a box. Hesitantly he blew the dust off of it and opened the flaps.

Countless medals and trophies peeked out from under the edge of a blanket he had put on the top. Fuji lifted the well-worn piece of fabric off of the trophies. They still gleamed brightly, though perhaps not as proudly as before.

He dug through the box slowly, remembering "the good ol' days" when he was with that team. Fuji's fingers grazed something soft, and he pulled out a white and blue jacket.

The Seigaku regular outfit.

Fuji's eyes threatened to open for a split second, but then his face relaxed and he placed it back in the box. Why was he surprised it was in there? Wouldn't his middle school tennis jersey be in there? _It would be no use to mull over the past_, Fuji thought.

Finally, after seemingly eternity, Fuji's fingers touched cool, hard metal. He pulled the item out and stared at it.

It was his old tennis racket.

His hand seemed to be pulled to the racket's handle, and gripped it as if it had only been yesterday when he had last played. A sudden thrill pulsed through his body; it was the same feeling he always got when he was about to play. The grip tape was well-worn, practically falling apart on its own, but that could be fixed easily. He just wanted, no, _needed_ to play.

Just for a little bit.

Fuji's roommate barged in and stopped abruptly at the sight of the box of medals and the racket in Fuji's hands. "You never told me you liked to play tennis!" his roommate grinned and punched his arm lightly.

Fuji gave a small smile. "I used to be really into it in Junior High."

He rose from his kneeling position abruptly, racket in hand, and his roommate asked, "Where are you going?"

The smile stayed on Fuji's lips. A real smile, not one of those fake ones. "I'm going to play a little... tennis."

His roommate, seemingly understanding the importance of it, remained silent.

And Fuji was glad for it.

-

The courts were full, as they always were on Saturday evenings, but it didn't matter to Fuji. He just needed a ball and an empty wall to feel that thrill again. Passing the row of tennis courts, he came to a fairly tall brick wall and began hitting against it.

_Pok._

_Pok._

_Pok._

Fuji was glad to know that he hadn't completely forgotten his skills. It felt extremely good and oddly _satisfying_ to hit that yellow sphere again and again. He felt _content_, strangely enough. Like it was _right_ for him to be there, at that time, hitting a tennis ball against the wall like that.

He felt, for perhaps the first time in a long time, _happy_, to say in a general sense. It was like the feeling of when someone lost something, and then felt incredibly happy once they found it again.

Tennis had once been lost to him, but he had found it again.

And he couldn't stop.

It was a rhythm that kept on going.

_And now - I'll see if my skills have disappeared -_

_Tsubame Gaeshi, first counter!_

Fuji, in the motion which he remembered so clearly, performed that famous - or infamous, to his former opponents - technique. The ball spun wildly, almost - yet not quite - losing its track, and contacted the wall. It rolled _up the wall_ about a few centimeters high, and then lost its grip on the bricks and fell to the ground, bouncing a few times.

Fuji still held the Tsubame Gaeshi position. A small smile started to creep up his face. Then, it broke out into a full grin, possibly the widest he'd done since starting college. He had done it! He could still do the Tsubame Gaeshi!

He slowly stood and picked up the ball. _Again,_ his mind urged. _Do it again. Show yourself that you can do this move. Show yourself that you can still play tennis!_

So he did.

Again and again, that ball crept up the side of the wall. Futher up, higher and higher.

And finally, he had made it up the entire wall. The ball teetered on the top edge of it, but it dropped onto the other side. Fuji's grin could almost split his face. He had done it. Tsubame Gaeshi was his once again.

He walked over to the other side and picked up his ball once again. Tossing it lightly up and down, Fuji was about to resume his ball-bouncing when he caught sight of some people who looked around his age. They were rallying back and forth casually, sometimes commenting on the other's strokes, but it was somehow mesmerizing to see them.

Fuji had a sudden urge to play with someone.

He walked up to the players, who stopped their rallying once they caught sight of him. "May I play?" he asked politely, the usual smile on his face.

"Sure," a player shrugged. "My nii-san, Seiyan over there, keeps on beating me. Here." she tossed the ball to Fuji, who caught the ball expertly on his racket.

"Thanks." He exchanged places with her and faced the other, named Seiyan apparently. "Do you want to play a game?"

"Sure. You can serve, if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

Fuji did not respond but began to walk towards the baseline, tossing the tennis ball up and down casually. Once he reached the line, he threw the ball up high. He could see a slight shadow on it, and in one fluid motion he hit it.

_Pok._ It had hit the net.

Fuji, with a puzzled expression on his face, watched the ball roll back to him. It stopped at his feet. _Strange,_ he thought, _that's never happened before._ He bent down and picked up the ball, experimentally bouncing it against the ground. _It seems round enough. But it should've gone over the net when I served it. Is there something wrong with the ball?_

He inspected the ball carefully, concluding, _No, this ball looks and feels like every other ball I've played with. _

Suddenly, the voice of one of his many photography teachers came into his head. _Look at things a different way. Sometimes you can learn new things by using a different aspect._ He had been talking about photography, of course, but this could be applied to many things, including tennis.

_So, taking a different aspect…Perhaps _I_ am doing something wrong. But I've done that serve literally hundreds of times. How could I get this time wrong?_ Fuji frowned, but shook that doubt off and accepted the fact that he could've done something wrong.

He threw up the yellow ball –

_Tennis is an art just as much as photography is –_

It dropped –

_I love tennis – _

He gripped his racket -

_Tennis is not dead for me!_

Perfect.

That was the only word Fuji could describe his serve. Perfect. It _felt_ perfect, that sound on the racket and the feel as it hit the sweet spot. There was _power _in his serve, but also _control_. Perfect. The thrill came again. That thrill that always came when he served. The thrill that came because he loved tennis.

It sailed over the net, not very high, but instead fast like a bullet.

Seiyan had no time to react; before he knew it, the ball had already passed the baseline. Fuji suppressed a small smirk at Seiyan's utter shock.

Tennis was _definitely_ not dead for him.

"Saa, don't I serve again?" Fuji tried to sound as polite as he could, though he could not resist adding, "Please don't stand there looking like a fish."

The player who was taking a break suddenly stood up. "Sugoi! That was so _cool_!" A grin was on her face. Strangely, Fuji thought she looked much like Eiji.

Fuji gave her one of his trademark smiles. "Arigatou, but it was nothing."

"Are you kidding?" Seiyan, though he had just lost the point, was grinning as well. "That was a super fast serve. I couldn't even move!" he exclaimed. He picked up the tennis ball and threw it over to Fuji. "Show me that again!"

Fuji caught the ball. "Well, if you say so," he tossed the ball up reluctantly (though not really; truthfully, he wanted to feel that serve again), "but it was only a regular serve."

Again, the ball sped at Seiyan, who tried to return it but found that he was far too slow. His gaze followed the ball, though his body could not, as it passed him and the baseline. "It happened for the second time," he murmured in astonishment.

He threw the ball to Fuji, and as the light-brown haired boy caught the ball, Seiyan swore he could see a glimmer of the clearest crystalline blue he'd ever seen under those closed eyelids.

-

"5 – 2, Fuji to lead!" Mitsuko, the girl player from before, announced the score.

Both players were panting hard, though perhaps Fuji more than Seiyan. He had not practiced for several years, and his body was unused to playing tennis. Because of the long break, he was missing balls that he should've been able to get, but then again he was also _leading_, 5 to 2.

He readied himself. Seiyan was serving.

"Love - 15!"

"Love - 30!"

"15 – 30!"

"15 – 40!"

"30 – 40!"

Seiyan served a fairly fast but weak ball. It was obvious that he was beginning to tire; his current serves were barely half of what he had been serving in the beginning. Fuji found little trouble in returning the ball, seeing as Seiyan had served it directly at him. The ball sailed back, and the two began to rally.

_If I can move him around at the baseline_, Seiyan thought desperately, _maybe I can get him to miss. Or something. It seems almost as if he can't miss!_

Seiyan hit a long ball, forcing Fuji back. But this was his mistake. Fuji, the tennis tensai, already had the rest of the game planned out just the way he wanted it.

Suddenly, Fuji found himself in a familiar position. This game was not that hard at all, and he was letting Seiyan get points just to humor him, so it was unnecessary to use it, but he just wanted to see if he could use it in a game.

_Tsubame Gaeshi! _

The ball flew over the net, landed on the opposite side of the court, and _rolled_ past the once-again astonished Seiyan. Silence reigned throughout the court. Even some of the players in the adjacent courts stopped their rallying to stare at Fuji and the ball that had _rolled_ past Seiyan.

Murmurs of "How'd he do that?" and "Amazing!" drifted around the court, but Fuji ignored the bystanders and smiled at Seiyan.

"That," Fuji rested his racket on his shoulder casually, "was Tsubame Gaeshi."

He could've heard a pin drop.

Suddenly, a player from the court next to his exclaimed, "No way! _That's_ Tsubame Gaeshi? It looks twice as cool as the article described it!"

"Nah, it looks _three times_ as cool!" another player argued.

Fuji just smiled. "Game and match, Seiyan. Gomen nasai. Better luck next time." Both of the players met at the net and shook hands firmly.

"I doubt I'd have luck," Seiyan laughed, "because I know you were holding back, weren't you?" Fuji just shrugged with a smile still on his face.

"Hey, will you be here tomorrow?" Mitsuko walked up to Fuji with hope clearly written on her face.

"Come on! Say yes!" Seiyan apparently also wanted Fuji to return.

Fuji glanced down at the racket in his hands. _I love tennis. Though Tezuka and Echizen are already past me, I can still play, can't I?_

Fuji looked up, and Seiyan and Mitsuko were stunned to see a pair of the clearest crystalline blue eyes they'd ever seen.

"Maybe I can dish out a little bit of time tomorrow."

It was a silent guarantee that he would.

-- _Owari --_

... Well, I don't think it's as good as Black Rain... The ending was kind of abrupt, but I couldn't think of anything else to put there. Overall, it's a bit unrealistic... Meh, I tried.

Before you remind me, yes, I do know that Tsubame Gaeshi uses the opponent's spin, and by hitting against the wall, Fuji's not really getting that much spin. And no, Tsubame Gaeshi is probably not going to go up the entire wall, even if he does get a lot of spin. But hey, this is fanfiction... Call it the authoress' freedom. ;)

Alolha123


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